Walking through the fire

9:40 A.M. - The sun is shining. The neighborhood dogs are barking. And I've got my trusty morning cup of coffee. On the surface all is nice and normal at the Ward castle this morning. But there is one truly huge difference:

I'M GETTING SET TO GO TO CLASS!!

That's right, class. Captain Gray Hair has gone and done it. The Handsome One has enrolled at Boise State University, passed two Praxis exams and even washed his car. All over the course of the past four months. Kind of a big deal for Ole' Charming and Debonaire.

Remember my last blog posting? The one from my birthday where I was blabbing on and on about my lack of direction and purpose, outside of being devastatingly awesome and all? Well, it's a very long story, but the cliffnotes version ends with my decision to pursue a career in Special Education. Some paths are way too obvious to actually see. At least without some help. Basically April and I were lounging under a shady tree in an empty school playground when the idea surfaced. It was quite dramatic. You see, April dramatically turned to me and asked,"Hey, how about working in special education?" I dramatically paused for half a second and responded, "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." We then dramatically returned to our previous conversation about chicken or Buffy the Vampire Slayer or some such.

And so the dramatics continued. I met with the CHAIR OF THE SPECIAL EDUCATION DEPARTMENT AT BOISE STATE UNIVERSITY, DR. KEITH ALLRED (Important people get all-caps in my blog). He announced that, yes I could pursue a degree in Special Ed, as long as I passed a math test (And then unleashed an evil mad-scientist laugh while thunder and lightning crashed behind him. It was weird, and scary).

I spend the next month and a half desperately trying to relearn high school math. It was quite a scene. There I was, sitting in my back yard, staring at a Praxis practice book and mumbling things like, "all angles in an equilateral triangle are 60 degrees," and "the volume of a sphere is four-thirds pie r cubed."

Well, all of that mumbling must have worked because I somehow passed the Praxis math exam. I also managed to pass the Praxis writing exam despite writing the worst essay ever. I ran out of time, and my screen went blank before I could finish my crappy argument and complete my crappy essay. Praxis exam scorer people must really like crappy essays, because they gave me a passing score. Whatever. Let's move on.

So I'm sitting in my kitchen this morning, blogging away and trying to contain my nervous energy. It's been 10 years since the last time I attended a college class. I've spent the past five years changing diapers and watching Spongebob Squarepants. Now I have to act like a grown-up and study and write papers and stuff. I'll check in tonight to let you know how it goes.

But for now, as someone somewhere must have said sometime .... "Here goes nothing kiddies!"

- Dave


4:49 P.M. - Well, I did it. I managed to attend an honest-to-goodness college class and I'm still breathing. My head didn't explode and I didn't have a nervous breakdown or anything. Not any more than usual.

I was so nervous this morning because I just didn't know what to expect. After 10 years away from the Land of Academia, a man finds himself asking questions like, "Do the kids use laptops or notebooks?" and, "Does my brain even work anymore?"

I guess I shouldn't have been so worried. The Old Man Who is So Stunningly Handsome has still got it. Whatever "it" may be.

My luck began right away. I pulled into the first parking lot, the one with the primo spots right next to the greenbelt, and found one solitary spot just for me and my Matrix. I grabbed the old backpack and enjoyed a pleasant stroll along the Boise River. The sun was shining and there was a soft breeze. A taste of fall in the middle of August.

I found an empty table right in front of the Interactive Learning Center where I camped out, watched the kiddies stroll by, and read most of the first chapter in my textbook. My dusty old brain even understood most of the words!

After a while my stomach decided it was no longer nervous and wanted a Subway sandwich post-haste. What could I do after such a demand? I simply had to obey, and obey I did. Oh yes indeed. I ordered a turkey sandwich and it was glorious.

Finally, I made my way to the classroom and sat down amidst a packed house and waited. A jolly looking guy wearing a maroon t-shirt, gray pants and tennis shoes walked in and started talking about a "syllabus," "tests," and other classroom lingo that my brain instantly recognized from my first collegiate tour of duty.

It wasn't the Earth-shattering event that I envisioned. It was a nice comfortable return to a world that I vacated a long time ago. It was a nice reunion with one huge difference. This time, when the jolly professor began talking, I was actually interested in what he was talking about. I slept through my first college go-around, and I wasn't the least bit interested in any of my classes. My 20-year-old impatient self merely wanted to graduate so I could become a famous sports writer.

Well, that didn't exactly happen. I'm older now and I actually want to learn all I can about Special Education. It's so much more fun.

I'm sure tomorrow's class will send shivers down my spine, but at least today's experience went well. My return to the Land of Academia wasn't scary. It wasn't horrible. Actually, it was a lot of fun.

- Dave